Welcome to the world

READY FOR THE WORLD Malian duo Amadou and Mariam brings joyful sounds to a global audience.

Photograph: Bernard Benand

Ask Mariam Doumbia what she hoped to be when she grew up, and her answer is simple: The 50-year-old, blind Malian musician wanted to be a star—"une vedette," as she puts it in French. She smiles as she says it, but she's absolutely serious—and why wouldn't she be? Her wish came true. Along with her husband, blues-rock guitar whiz Amadou Bagayoko, Mariam has achieved international success, 30 years after they met and fell in love at Bamako's Institute for Young Blind People. Their last album, the Grammy-nominated Dimanche à Bamako, has sold nearly a million copies; ring tones of their songs bleep out all over Bamako, their hometown; and their track "Beaux Dimanches" is now a first-dance wedding staple from Mali to Paris.But it's the duo's new album, Welcome to Mali, that confirms their status while also redefining—or rather, undefining—the very notion of "world music." Recorded in Dakar, Paris, London and Bamako, Welcome to Mali sounds like it was made, variously, in 1970s flare-wearing New York, in a timeless stretch of desert, and at the kind of party you'd most like to be asked to. The album's guests include rising hip-hop artist K'naan, kora virtuoso Toumani Diabaté and reggae smoothy Tiken Jah Fakoly. The jewel in its crown is opening track "Sabali," a blissful amalgam of electronic arpeggios and Mariam's sweet, ethereal vocal, which sounds like it's being beamed in from outer space.

That song is the result of the pair's collaboration with Gorillaz head honcho Damon Albarn, whom they met on Africa Express, a project that came about as a reaction to the cringe-inducing West-fest that was 2008's Live 8. "Damon felt that if you wanted to talk about Africa, you needed Africans," Amadou says with a shrug.

Today, Amadou and Mariam are nestled together in a posh LES hotel suite, where the heating has been turned up to the max (Manhattan being a little chillier than Bamako). Mariam sits with a queenly demeanor, a blanket over her legs. Amadou, immaculate in a suit and shades, is more chatty…at least as chatty as a conversation facilitated by a translator, minus eye contact or hand gestures, can be. The stilted conversation runs opposite to the album's flow among musical styles.

"World music…," Amadou says, trailing off with a sigh. "I mean, we play blues festivals, rock festivals, all sorts." (In fact, A&M have just been invited to tour the U.S. with Coldplay, and the duo's summer schedule includes a Bonnaroo appearance.) "That phrase gets used when people don't recognize the structures." Meaning, when people aren't familiar with what they're hearing, it's easier to simply tag it as world music.

It's going to get harder, though. Amadou and Mariam are ambassadors for a wave of artists whose music evades categorization, from the Brazil-via-Angola mash-up of Buraka Som Sistema to the folk fusion of India's Raghu Dixit. For these young pioneers, the Internet plays a huge part in facilitating such sonic adventures, all but negating distance between continents. A generation older, A&M came by their freewheeling approach just growing up in '70s Mali. "You couldn't get hold of records by Malian artists," Amadou says. "We listened to French artists, Cuban music…and a lot of James Brown."

"The great thing about Amadou is he's got open ears," Albarn says via e-mail. "I've sat with him for days on end in different parts of Africa and here in Britain, and he's always excited by new music. It's part of his life and who he is."

Indeed, Amadou lights up when he's asked if he loves playing live. "Yes!" he answers in English, "very, very much." It's not just the band's riotous, sweaty beats or Amadou's hell-for-leather guitar solos that make their gigs so spectacular. To see Amadou and Mariam perform is to be awed by their bond. At a recent London show, they were led onstage separately and seemed to feel their way to each other, Mariam touching and stroking her husband's head as she sang to him.

The warmth from the crowd is palpable, Amadou explains. "When we went to Buenos Aires for the first time, immediately people started singing…" As he demonstrates, Mariam joins him, harmonizing a perfect octave apart. They sing some more, then start laughing. "We want people to understand that in Africa there's not only misery. There's joy, parties, solidarity, community," says Mariam. "Musique est universelle," she adds, and no translation is required.

Amadou and Mariam play Webster Hall June 6. Welcome to Mali is out now.

Download Welcome to Mali on iTunes | Buy it on BN.com | Buy it on Amazon.com

See more Music